After the Revelation
by Scarab
Summary: Written after ending of TR4 game in response to challenge


(10,813 words) 

(10,813 words)

The Truth  
Scarab

- in resonse to a challenge of writing a fic following on from the end of the last revelation

The cold wind flowed over the moon-silvered sands, brushing over dunes, and soughing through the thin drape over the cave entrance. The fire inside, and the single occupant, shivered in unison. The brown haired woman lay curled on her side, the coarse woven blanket shifting as she twitched in her sleep . . .  
_She ran, no time to look back now, as she dived to slide under the rapidly dropping blocks, escaping . . .but now she is no longer in Angkor Wat, but outside the ruins of a temple in India . . . still dodging rocks, rolling this time . . . now Egypt - running, dodging - trapped! TRAPPED!  
_With a ragged gasp, Lara Croft shot upright, legs tangled in the blanket, clutching at her holsters for her ever-present pistols. Realising that they were gone, she frantically brushed the hair out of her face, staring at her surroundings. Quickly regaining her composure, and grateful that no one else was there to witness her moment of weakness, she took stock.  
'My pistols and backpack are gone, but someone was considerate enough to light a fire and give me a blanket. Odd.'  
Hearing a rustle outside the sheet covering the entrance, Lara shot to her feet, trying to calm the pounding of her heart, which she was sure would give her away. Hand to hand combat was nothing new, but she certainly wouldn't trouble herself with the dangers that she did if there was no rewarding thrill.  
The noise had long ceased before Lara permitted herself to move, silently and alternately cursing and praising the paranoia that her lifestyle gave her. 'Then again, I don't suppose that paranoia is the right word when everybody usually _is_ out to get you.'  
As she gazed around the cave, a short-lived lick of flame reflected off something darkly metallic on a rock shelf. With great relief, Lara picked up her pistols, scrutinising each one for new scratches or excessive damage, checking if they were loaded. Satisfied, she placed the familiar items in their resting places by her sides, and was reassured by their weight, re-balanced both physically and mentally by their presence. She keenly felt her missing backpack, but there was nothing to be done about that.  
Her eyes now accustomed to the dim light, Lara began to observe the cave more carefully. Several rock ledges jutted out from the sides. Whether they were hand-hewn or naturally formed, one couldn't tell. A few paces away from the sheet serving as a door confirmed that the cave was little more than a depression in the rock. Another half-hearted search of the cave failed to magically produce either her backpack, or any of the items she carried in it. Apparently all she had was her loaded pistols, with the emergency ammunition carefully tucked in the compartments at the base of the holsters.  
'No, not all I have - I have myself, a blanket, a warm fire, and this cave if no body else turns up. I have done better on much worse before. Much worse . . .'  
Lara quickly de-railed that particular train of thought. However often she thought about that fateful 'plane crash, the past remained unchangeable, and always would. And in some ways, that was the problem. If she thought about that day, sad as it was, then she would have to think about the one truth that she never wanted to face.  
Lara's attention was brought sharply to the present by the as yet distant, but unmistakable sound of sand-crunching footsteps nearing the cave. Out of instinct, Lara had never put herself between the fire and the blanket, so as not to cast any shadows - otherwise known as 'targets'. A quick glance to the left and right affirmed that there was no space to hide next to the entrance. As the footsteps came ever closer, Lara realised that she didn't need to get out her pistols - they were already automatically in her hands.  
Gritting her teeth, she made sure that she was directly in front of the door-curtain. She would be facing her opponent. Of course, this meant that her opponent would also be facing her. With no manoeuvring room on her part, if her opponent happened to be armed and have a grudge, it could get messy quickly.  
'Time to bite the bullet.'   
Another moment's thought.   
'Metaphorically, of course'.  
The footsteps paused outside the tent, and Lara tensed as they paused. The curtain twitched . . .  
_Lara's fingers tightened on the triggers, her muscles tensed, ready to spring forwards . . ._ and parted.  
  
A pair of deep green eyes widened as they looked from Lara's face to her hands, and back again. With an audible gulp, the man's hands began to shake, rattling the items on the tray that he was carrying.  
An inappropriate thought crossed Lara's mind - this person reminded her somewhat of her butler.  
'Only Hillary doesn't usually cover himself quite so totally . . .'  
The stranger opposite her was clad in dun and grey robes, many times torn and patched. A turban-like arrangement covered his head, with one strip of material coming down scarf-like to cover his face and neck. From tip to sandal-rag covered toe, the man was every inch the wandering Arab.  
Sure that the trembling man - who had now closed his eyes - was no immediate threat, and knowing that too much fear never induced excessive talking, Lara tucked her guns away. At the 'click' of her pistols settling, the man whimpered quietly.  
After a moment, as if he couldn't believe his continued life or luck, one eyelid cracked open, the eyeball rolling around almost frantically. Finally the other eye opened. Babbling with relief, the man set the tray down slowly, and proceeded to kow-tow, whilst keeping up a steady stream of gibbering.   
Catching strains of Arabic, Lara stepped past the fire, closer to the praying man.  
"Why did you bring me here? Where are my belongings?"  
She demanded in passable Arabic.  
The man ceased his muffled tirade, and mumbled something into the floor. Lara tapped her booted foot impatiently, resisting the urge to satisfy an itchy trigger finger.   
"It's quite alright, I won't bite. Stand up!"  
The man rose, trying to bow as he did so.   
"You . . . you are the Lara Croft?" he wavered, fearfully avoiding eye contact by keeping his head bowed.  
Lara raised an eyebrow in amusement.  
"You were perhaps expecting someone else?"  
The man sighed with relief.  
"Oh mighty vanquisher of Gods and demons - " the man began, bowing down again.  
"Hang on - "  
"- do you desire a pastry?"  
As Lara was about to decline and get down to business, her stomach informed her that yes, she _did_ desire a pastry. Following the man's gesturing arm, she saw that the small tray was laden with bread, fruit, and of course, pastry.  
"Perhaps that's not such a bad idea. I'll eat, you talk. Again, why did you bring me here?"  
They both settled cross-legged on the floor, the firelight revealing more of the man's face as he removed the scarf-like material. With a start Lara realised that the man was far from Hillary's age - the weatherworn lines around his eyes were deceptive. He could not have been much over twenty.   
'Interesting - in a nomad tribe, although twenty is a respectable age, he would not be in charge of a great deal if there were elders. So where are the others?'   
Lara sat eating her fill whilst her companion began an elaborate recital. He, Adan, and his companions, had bravely gone forth, sent to an ancient tomb, to search for 'the Lara Croft'. Their instructions had been to recover her and her belongings, and bring her here, with the utmost respect.  
"My thanks for your kindness Adan," Lara began, daintily brushing crumbs of pastry off her dusty clothes, "but who sent you, whose instructions are you following, and where is here?"  
Before Adan could reply, something on the edge of Lara's vision caught her attention and caused her to stop brushing off crumbs. A new, nearly healed cut marked the back of Lara's hand.  
"And precisely how long," she continued, more sharply, "have I been kept here?"  
Adan paled and tried to bow still lower from his cross-legged position.  
"Forgive us, you were hurt in your fall - you have slept a goodly while. As for your other questions, surely you know the ans - "  
Lara was quickly on her feet, staring down at Adan. She was getting tired of this. She had obviously had to be rescued - and the very thought angered her irrationally - she had also obviously been 'out of it' for some time, and after listening to Adan prattle on about he and his 'brave friends going forth', he was trying to evade her questions and she _still_ didn't have the answers she needed!  
Adan cautiously raised his gaze to see the Lara Croft staring at him with fury and reflected firelight in her eyes. It was true what they said - she was indeed beautiful, but in the same way that a desert wildcat was. He sat there, transfixed by her gaze, afraid to move.   
"You will take me to whoever is in charge here," she intoned, her voice as cold as the fire was hot, "and I will have my answers."  
Shakily Adan rose to his feet, clutching the tray nervously.  
"Your will."  
As Adan brushed the cloth aside for Lara, she took an involuntary sharp breath.  
The sandy plateau stretched out halfway to the horizon, a table of rock edged with dunes. As the sky shaded from dusky blue to rosy dawn, Lara saw that her guesses about Adan had not been totally accurate - Arabic, yes, but nomadic?  
The pinky-gold rays heralding the dawn shone off tent-poles, making the silks and weaves of the coverings glow in the pre-dawn light. Thousands of long-tents littered the rock plateau, now gilded in the pre-light of the morning. As the light continued to intensify, darker patches on the rock turned into holes, steps disappearing into the dark caverns. In the centre of the plateau, a huge gilded stone pavilion cast it's long shadow over the assembled tents, crouched over the deepest darkest dip in the plateau.  
The bright colours of the tents danced in a soft breeze, and people began to emerge, all looking in the direction of the pavilion. As the sun finally crested the eastern horizon, the rays struck the pavilion, and the reflective metal spun a net of gold around the stone pillars.   
"Behold," said Adan softly, "the Glory of Horus."  
Lara stood awed, as the sun continued to climb the sky until the light was no longer in the right direction, and the net of gold unravelled and faded.  
Adan waited respectfully for the Lara Croft to finish her observation. The people of the Golden Rock were about their daily business now, following the steps down into the caverns in the rock, returning with containers filled with water.  
Finally she cleared her throat, and turned back to Adan.  
"Yes, well, carry on."  
Lara had seen a great many things in her life. She had seen the magnificence of the temples of Gods of various nations, and she had seen the glory of burial tombs in places all over the globe. She had explored tropical paradises, and seen the vast dignified expanses of cool underground caverns. She had never seen anything so beautiful as what she had just witnessed in her entire life. And she was sure she would never see anything as beautiful again.  
Quietly, she followed Adan down the sand-covered steps that led from the small rock wall to the edge of the plateau over a hundred feet away.   
Although outwardly, she was composed and alert, but in truth she was still feeling dazzled.  
Streams of robed people flowed around them as they approached the pavilion, which Adan explained was called the Glory of Horus because of the dance of light it performed by order of Horus each clear dawn, and more infrequently on clear full-moon nights at certain times of the year. Adan's people were curious, but also respectful. As families passed by, the children stared openly at this strangely dressed Westerner, but more often than not, adults bowed.  
"As you see, Lara Croft, the people of the Golden Rock mean you no harm."  
Lara took the long walk as an opportunity to observe the 'Golden Rock'. As they walked past the numerous holes with stone-carved stairways, she realised that the caverns must extend far down into the rock below - even as she was passing right next to them, she could not see an end to the stairs.  
"Adan?" she said, drawing level with her guide, "What you have here looks like a permanent settlement, but what do your people do in a sandstorm?"  
Adan grinned as he gestured to the many dips on the plateau, and the gaping darkness under the Glory of Horus that they were approaching.  
"These caverns are in fact tunnels, running through the depth of the rock. Our water supply springs from the deep rock, and so we are protected down there. After a very bad storm, sometimes lower parts of the Rock need to be revealed again - but to preserve the Glory of Horus, it is a task welcomed by all."  
Lara thought it would be wise to keep her scepticism to herself. A quick glance into Adan's eyes surprised her, however.  
'He really _would_ welcome it, wouldn't he . . .'  
The sun continued to glide through the cloudless sky, and by the time they reached the Glory of Horus, Lara was regretting the fact that she had no over-robes to deflect the harsh rays.  
She was quite fascinated by Adan and his people. From what Adan had said about Horus, it would seem that the people of the Golden Rock were actively worshipping Horus, and therefore possibly a whole Ancient Egyptian pantheon.   
As they stepped under the shade of the rock, and the sun-spots faded from her eyes, Lara could make out two bulky forms by the side of the darkness in the rock. This rock maw was very different to the other water-wells and tunnel entrances. It was much larger for a start, at least twenty feet across either way, with jagged teeth of rock extending from the rim.   
'As if that didn't look menacing enough,' Lara reflected, 'the guards are certainly adding to the effect.'  
Two sets of six-foot tanned muscle waited before the steps down into the hole, scimitars glaringly obvious at their sides. Their faces were impassive, but from knew from experience that they would be aware of every movement and sound around them.  
For one absurd moment she was transported by memory to her first trip to see the guards of Buckingham Palace. She had been amazed by the way that they would not move at all. Immediately after her visit, she had gone to her room to practise standing perfectly still, and although practise through the years _had_ 'made perfect', it was harder than it looked. Lara contained her laughter at her childhood foolery.  
'I _must_ be sun-struck.'  
Adan approached the guards meekly, while Lara kept her distance. He muttered phrases in his native tongue, the sandy wind and the distance conspiring to steal them from Lara's ears. Much as she would have liked to hear the exchange, if she moved forwards she was sure that the guards would _not_ approve.  
Finally Adan moved away from the guards, turning once more to Lara.  
"We may pass."  
Without another word he walked towards the guards again, who moved aside. Lara followed, wary as she passed between the two of them. They moved in front of the stairs as soon as she had passed. Her jaw set in grim determination.  
'So no turning back now then.'  
She _would_ find out what was going on here, why they had bothered to bring her here, and then as soon as this was finished, she was going home.  
As she descended the dark stairs, a feeling of trepidation crept over her, growing with each stair she trod. She felt as if she was walking into the mouth of some great beast, and if the rocks around the edges were the teeth, then this certainly was the throat, the tongue of slippery stairs leading to the belly of the beast. The dank smell of the crypt seemed to permeate the air, reminding her of countless tension filled adventures. The darkness rose from the ground along with the chill, suffocating the little light and fresh air that was left. The only sound was the muffled footsteps of herself and Adan, deadened in the dark dampness of the air. Just as she thought she would have to ask Adan to provide some light, the stairway twisted sharply to the right, and torchlight lined the wall. Whether it was her impatience or not, the stairs seemed endless. They twisted so many times that even Lara's well honed sense of direction was having trouble accommodating a mental map of the stairs. Eventually, they reached the base of them.  
Adan had been unusually silent during their descent, and as the torch he lifted from a bracket in the wall illuminated his shock-pale face and wide eyes, Lara's heart gave an unbidden extra flip in the direction of her throat.   
'He seems so scared - terrified even. Thank heavens for small mercies,' Lara thought, hands brushing briefly over the ends of her pistols, reassuring herself that they were still there. The atmosphere of this place was starting to bother her, along with Adan's fear. Reminding herself that she had been in worse situations many times, Lara straightened her shoulders and strode after Adan along the winding tunnel, which eventually ended in a dark underground cavern.   
Although the surface had been baking - 'and probably is even worse now', Lara added - the cool moist air of the huge cavern was enough to draw a shiver.  
The cavern reached up into dark corners that the few torches scattered along the walls would never illuminate. In the centre of the room, a circle of light was created by a half dozen torches arranged in a circle. Outside of the circle of light, but not close enough to the walls to be well lit, Lara thought that she could see chairs arrayed in a semicircle, the open side facing the tunnel she and Adan had just exited.  
"Respected Council of Elders," Adan said clearly, disrupting Lara's observations, "I bring before you the Lara Croft!"  
He bowed towards the darkness beyond the torchlight, careful to keep his torch away from his robes.  
"Bring her into the light."  
The gravelly voice reminded Lara of nothing more than the mummies in the Burial Chambers in the Tomb of Seth. Remembering the foul stench of those damnable creatures, the hair on the back of Lara's neck prickled, the skin on her arms crawling.  
Resisting the urge to rub away the goose-bumps, Lara lifted her head up higher and passed Adan's extended arm, as his eyes silently pleaded with her to obey.  
Lara approached the ring of torches, her boots grinding the worn stone floor. When she was in the middle of the torches, feet firmly planted and arms defiantly folded, Adan bowed and scraped his way out of the cavern, returning the way he and Lara had passed moments before.  
When quiet prevailed, and the only sound was the insistent drip of moisture, Lara said clearly in Arabic,  
"Adan seemed to think that you would have the answers to my questions."  
A chair gave a coffin-dry mirthless laugh. A second chair added,  
"We are not usually presented with questions, Lara Croft."  
Lara felt quick relief that the chair had called her 'Lara Croft' rather than '_the_' Lara Croft, which just as quickly gave way to anger. Before she could say anything, a third chair spoke up, it's voice higher pitched than the other two.  
"You, Lara Croft, are responsible for freeing Set, master of plagues and darkness."  
There was a pause.  
"However, you are also responsible for helping to trap him once again."  
Lara placed her hands on her hips, peering into the darkness but still unable to see individual people.  
"And why should this interest you?"  
A previously silent chair now joined in, it's voice as low as the first chair, if less gravelly.  
"Horus has determined that you are an unknown. His cause is to keep light in the world, and protect it's people. _Our_ people."  
"You are a curiosity Lara Croft," spoke the first chair. "You raid tombs, yet make great discoveries. You often trespass on sacred lands, yet always try to prevent others from damaging the world. Horus has determined that you be tried in the custom of our people."  
Before the echoes of the thick voice had died in the air, Lara had raised her voice in anger. Still rankling from being called a 'curiosity', the word 'tried' had definitely been the last straw.  
"Hang on a moment! Tried for what? Where!?"  
Another pause, Lara's hands hovering over her holsters, unwilling to shoot at an enemy she could not see, but could see her, and aware of the possible necessity.  
"At the Gates of Horus. For the qualities of your soul," chair two said quietly.  
Before she could get her hands on her pistols and reveal the faces of the arrogant chairs, four shadows detached themselves from the walls and became guards, holding Lara's arms and legs firm, lifting her struggling from the chamber. One of the guards sharply backhanded Lara for her trouble, and she ran a mental stream of expletives as her vision swam, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

__

Ow.  
Her jaw throbbed dully for some reason, and when she tried to raise an arm to touch it her limbs felt slow, as if they were bonelessly filled with heavy liquid.  
'Why does my jaw - '  
The onslaught of memory and full consciousness had her flipped onto her feet in an instant, hands drawing her . . . drawing her . . .  
'_Damn._'  
Her hands were flailing wildly over the area where her pistols _should_ have been.  
'I really hate times like these.'  
More than once Lara had picked herself up off of a cell floor, weapon-less, and once was more than enough. Blinking to clear the last of the blurred vision from her eyes, Lara looked around. She was still underground judging by the temperature. In front of her and to both sides, metal bars were planted solidly in the floor and the ceiling. A hatch in the bars in front of her could be opened if one had a key and was standing on the other side of the bars. The cells adjacent to Lara's were currently empty, although whether this was a good or a bad thing was debatable. Glancing behind her, Lara was not surprised to see a rock wall, dripping moisture from the various moulds and mosses that had taken root, which was undoubtedly where the rotten smell was coming from. There were no handy rock ledges this time, on which her pistols waited for her. Nor was there a warming fire. There were approaching footsteps however. Many sets of sandalled feet seemed to be coming her way.  
'Oh, lucky me . . .'  
No less than ten of the homogenous guards rounded a corner, the torches they carried brightening the small room beyond Lara's cell.  
The foremost guard walked towards her cell, and Lara almost automatically assumed a tense half-crouch before forcing her shoulders to straighten.  
"We will release you now, and you will come with us to the Gates of Horus."  
The guard spoke slowly, as if he was having trouble remembering a pre-written script.   
'So maybe these charming fellows here were picked for their looks instead of their brains - or lack thereof. This could be an advantage.'  
He continued his intonation in a flat voice.  
"If you attempt to escape, you will be knocked unconscious again, and your weapons will not be returned."  
Lara raised an eyebrow in surprise. For once the enemy had, unfortunately, not underestimated her, giving her a 'retinue' of ten well-muscled guards. 'And if there was the possibility of them _giving_ me my weapons back . . . we'll see.'  
The front guard unlocked the cell and stood aside to let Lara out. Immediately the other nine guards spread out to line the room. She was nudged it fits and starts out of the chamber and along yet another dark rock tunnel. Four guards walked in front, another four behind, and one by each side. In some places the sides of the tunnel narrowed, but although the two side guards were far too close for anyone's comfort, they made no move to break formation. With disappointment, Lara noticed that all of the guards were unarmed - there was no chance of taking the weapon of one guard and using it against the others.  
'Fantastic. I have to be herded like a docile sheep. I hope that the 'Gates of Horus' are just a ceremonial court. Maybe there _will_ be a chance to fight my way out of this late - '  
Her musings were cut short, as with no warning one of the guards shoved her into a side tunnel. Off balance, she stumbled and managed to execute a sloppy roll to land crouched on her feet. Her head dropped as she heard the too familiar sound of a grate dropping closed behind her, and with an inarticulate cry of rage she was on her feet and pressed up against it. But the guards had already moved on, sandalled feet tapping a rhythm on the cold stone floor.  
Sighing, Lara leaned her head against the grate as she clenched the bars in her hands, feeling rather foolish for that sudden lack of composure. She was letting it all get to her, which was a luxury that she could not allow herself.   
Releasing the bars, she turned away from the grate, absentmindedly rubbing off the rust onto her shorts. A torch-lit tunnel led out of the tiny room she was now in, and as she strode past, she lifted one of the torches out of its bracket. As well as helping to show the way, if she needed to fight something, at least she had fire.   
'Thanks go to Prometheus for this one, I think.'  
She saw the last person she was expecting to see as she rounded the last of several corners.  
Adan was standing there, torch in hand, at the end of the tunnel. Her eyes narrowed.  
"You've got a nerve Adan." She canted her head to one side in apparent thoughtfulness. "Or a death wish."  
He gulped, the fire shivering as he twitched nervously, torch in hand.  
"I - I have your weapons . . ."  
"Well," Lara said, her voice low and even, "that's not much help to me then, is it."  
With shaking hands, Adan reached into his robe and extracted both pistols, handling them as if he thought they would attack him of their own will. It took him a moment to realise that the guns were no longer in his hands. In between praying that she would spare him, and hoping that his bowels would not loosen, he managed to wonder how she could move so quickly.  
Casting his torch aside, he threw himself full-length on the rock floor at her feet.  
"Please, don't kill me! I have a wife, and many small babies to look after!"  
Ignoring him completely, Lara stepped over the prone body and continued down the corridor, one pistol in her holster, one in her hand, and the torch in the other hand. A predatory smile crept over her face as she heard Adan's sobs of relief, followed instantly by the sound of his sandals slapping the rock floor as he ran. Weapon in hand, she continued down the rock tunnel. It was as boring as every other rock tunnel she had travelled recently. Until she reached the massive Gates of Horus.  
The Gates were truly fantastic. Made in the same style as the Glory of Horus now high above, the golden metal wrapped around the stone gleamed in the warm yellow light shed by the torch. Two twenty-foot pillars held up the intricately wrought metal gates. In a flicker of light, a familiar shape caught her eye, and Lara turned her attention more closely to the pillars. In addition to the metal ribbons crossing the stone, there were large inlaid-metal hieroglyphs on the lower portions of the pillars. Lara passed the torch over them carefully, muttering the Egyptian syllables before translating them into English.  
"Let they that stand here know that they are to travel this Temple of Truth. Salvation or destruction awaits those that stand before these Gates of Truth."  
Lara moved to the other pillar.  
"Yet those who are truthful may fall to either fate, for Horus judges."  
With a sigh, Lara stepped back from the pillars, and stared up at the gates again. The only symbol on them was the Eye of Horus, set at head-height across the two gates. She walked the perimeter of the room, looking for any escape route. There were none. The only exit to the chamber was the one she knew would be closed again now, if they had ever let Adan out through it in the first place.  
Lara eyed the closed gate again, and could see the light from distant torches making its way past the corridor beyond the gates.   
'I can either stay in here and starve to death, or I can try and make it through the Temple of Truth. I haven't done much that would be considered evil. Well, I have killed in self-defence, but it was self-defence. And no one can make good finds without crossing a little hallowed ground. And artefacts in tombs would just sit there with no one to see them if no one picked them up . . . Oh dear.'  
Dropping her torch, Lara got out her other pistol, lifted her head, and straightened her shoulders. She did what she did generally for the greater good, or at least she always tried to. She was _not_ a thief, she gave her finds to museums apart from a few personal pieces, and the only person to do any judging of herself would _be_ herself.  
Resolve strengthened, she strode forwards, and pushing the Eye of Horus, opened the gates.  
A short while later Lara discovered why her pistols had been returned. Back flipping to put as much distance between her and the snake she had almost stepped on, the pistols thundered until the snake was still.  
Breathing slightly quicker from her exertions, she reached up to wipe her forehead. As she realised what she was doing, she stopped and frowned. Sure enough, there was moisture stinging the tiny cuts on her fingers. 'And snakes aren't usually fond of colder climates.'  
Lara had been so tense and intent on exploring her surroundings, she had failed to notice the slow but steady rise in temperature.   
'It was just as well that it wasn't too great an increase, or the snake may have been less torpid.'  
Due to the chillier conditions of the rest of the caves, Lara had not been watching for the patterned scales of a reptile, but listening for the tiny skittering of rodent feet. She gritted her teeth in anger. This was definitely a bad situation to be in. She was aching from the time spent unconscious on a hard stone floor, and less recently, time spent _under_ several tons of hard stone floor. She had been unable to escape her captors, and was now stuck in the most boring 'temple' she had ever seen, making silly mistakes like disturbing sleeping snakes with her boots. It crossed her mind that killing Adan now would probably relieve some frustration, but she supposed that she had let that opportunity pass her by. There was nothing to do now but to explore the rooms off the main tunnel. 'Not that there were even many of those.' The ornate gates seemed to be a total contrast to this area. The few rooms that did deviate from the main tunnel path turned out to be long deserted living quarters, with animals as the only current residents. Although the rooms were deserted, the temple must still have had some maintenance staff, as all of the torches were lit. Lara almost gave a cry of relief when, after disposing of the hungry rat occupants of one room, she came across several pieces of parchment. Written on it, in both Egyptian hieroglyphs and Arabic characters were several daily devotions to Horus, and a few chants. Lara carefully pocketed the tough paper pieces, glad that the rag used in the parchment prevented it from crumbling to dust. A brief search of the room turned up another scrap of paper, and a palm-sized gold disc with the hieroglyphs for "truth and light" inscribed on part of the circumference. The gold disc renewed her hope slightly. There was an arrangement of hooks on the back, which suggested that it might fit into something.   
"A key of some sort perhaps?"  
Lara reached behind her, and then stopped and sighed over her lost backpack. The small sigh turned into a small growl. She could not use both pistols and hold the disc at once. After a moments deliberation, she wedged the disc against her holster belt as best she could, pushing in the hooks to grip the material.  
Several rooms, dead rats, and scraps of parchment later, Lara decided that these had once been the living quarters of priests or monks, devoted to this temple and to Horus. Fortunately, she did not need to test the precarious arrangement of disc and pistols. The rooms petered out, until a brief slide down a rocky slope placed her in front of another ornate door. This one was of similar construction to the Gates of Horus, but of a more normal size. In the middle of the door there was a symbol - a silver waning crescent moon was inscribed from point to point with hieroglyphs. Where the 'dark side' of the moon was, a circular depression fitted against the curve, with several hook-holes. As much as she wanted to open the door, she carefully read the hieroglyphs to make sure that the message wasn't along the lines of, "Insert gold disc here to open trapdoor onto spiked pit."   
A short while later she had read, "Enter the court of." She looked again at the golden disc. If one placed the golden disc _so_, and twisted it _there _. . .  
The hieroglyphs now ran from the tip of the crescent moon to the bottom of the sun and halfway up the other side, forming the sentence, "Enter the court of truth and light."  
After a few moments, the faintest of clicks sounded inside the door. Lara held her breath as she slowly, slowly, pushed open the door, pistols in hands. The held breath was expelled in a rush when Lara saw torchlight reflecting off a room largely decorated with precious metals and blue paints. It was also apparently clear of unwanted visitors. Unlike the barren walls of the priests quarters, opulence shone from every gold relief hieroglyph, inlaid sapphire, and marble stair. Lara stepped forwards, holstering her pistols. There were stone and gold-wrapped flat-topped pillars of varying heights set in a decorative pattern. Fortunately they were close enough for Lara to do some running, leaping, and hoisting to reach the top of the stairs leading to the platform at the top. Although the marble stairs ascending to an altar-like platform did not appear to be damaged, there was a significant gap in them, Lara would be unable to simply climb the stairs. Wiping the sweat of tension and heat off of her hands, she pulled herself up onto the lowest ornamental pillar.  
'If I back up, run and leap I _should_ be able to - '  
Lara's train of thought escaped her as she heard the creak of the door swinging shut. Just as she turned her head, the door closed with a crisp, final, 'click'. Lara braced herself on top of the pillar – if there were any traps for the unwary, now would be the time to spring them. Several tense moments later when the ceiling had failed to fall in, the ground to crumble, or the room to fill with sand, Lara looked back in the direction of the pillars and the - the now complete stairs. Lara blinked in surprise. In her experience, rarely did unexpected happenings yield a positive result. Still wary of a trap, Lara hopped down from the pillar, and approached the base of the steps. The ascent was uneventful however, slowed only by Lara's inspection of the new steps that must have raised themselves, completely silent, from the floor.   
Lara had always admired the cunning and workmanship of Egyptian architects, and that piece of handiwork had certainly impressed her. So she checked the floor around the altar carefully for pressure pads, trip-wires, or unsteady blocks. Still amazed by the lack of anything purposefully dangerous in the temple - and worried about what this could imply about later situations – Lara read the hieroglyphs on the flat stone altar on top of the steps.  
"Gifts for Horus must be placed upon this, his altar."  
It seemed brief and lacking in grandiose for something someone had placed in this ornate room. Lara looked around the room again. There were no other exits, no handy levers or dangling ropes. Turning back to the altar, she frowned. What could she offer? Certainly not her pistols, or her ammunition. 'I may need it yet, despite the general non-hostility of this place.' The gold disc was on the wrong side of the now closed door to this room. Reaching into her pockets, she retrieved handfuls of the parchment prayers and incantations.  
Nothing happened.  
Lara stared at the scraps so fiercely that she half expected it to spontaneously combust. While she was searching the altar again, a stray thought was trying to catch her attention. Further inspection revealed a black dust staining in the surface of the altar. The stray thought had really started jumping up and down in the hindbrain now. The frown deepened, quickly followed by the startled look of sudden comprehension.  
"Spontaneous combustion!"  
The echoes of her outburst rang around the quiet room, and Lara almost winced before turning her mind to the current problem.  
'Sacrifices were often made, but many cultures believed that their deities would receive the _spirit_ of the offering, therefore burning it!"  
Carefully, Lara lifted a torch out of the coils of a stone serpent by the altar, and slowly brought it down to the dry parchment. The scraps quickly caught light. At the creak of an un-oiled bearing, she quickly replaced the torch and drew her pistols. The wall behind the altar had parted neatly down the centre, dust and fine particles of rock floating to the ground where the stone doors had slid along their stiff runners. There were no lit torches in this room, and judging by the dust thick on the floor no one had maintained this room, unlike the priests' quarters. However, the heat rolled over Lara as she stood in front of the newly created gap. Which promptly started to close behind her. She squeezed into the room, the only illumination coming from the open doorway on the opposite side of the room. As for the room she was in, it was huge, with raised stone tiles decorating the floor. Around the edge of the room were narrow ledges of marble, extending a foot into the room. Lara holstered her pistols, and was about to stride off the marble edging and start across the panels to reach the doorway on the opposite side of the room, when a gentle hiss caused her to freeze. Slowly, moving as little as possible, Lara looked down at the tile that her boot was on. Irregular puffs of smoke were pushing up from a tiny crack by her foot. Sweat dripped off her arm and dried to nothing almost immediately on the tile below. To step back, Lara needed to push her foot off of the unsteady tile, which would mean putting more weight on that leg for a second. She did not even try to put her fear into coherent thoughts. For a long time the only noise in the chamber was the irregular hissing of the smoke squeezing through the crack her weight had created, and the steady dripping of sweat. When she spoke, Lara's whisper was barely audible to her own ears.  
"One . . ."  
Then in a louder voice.  
"Two . . ."  
"Three!"   
She yelled, as she threw herself back nearer the marble ledge. At the tiles drawn out groan Lara was scrambling to her feet, trying desperately to keep herself on the marble in the shaking room, hoping that it was more stable. As her foot slipped off the marble, the panels along the wall all started to tremble. The world seemed to slow down, Lara was trying to cling to the wall, to move her other foot to the marble, as the roars of tortured masonry stretched on - the only thing working on normal speed were the rapidly loosening floor tiles.  
And then it was over. Lara stood with her back pressed to the wall, staring across an abyss over a lava pit. The heat rolled up the walls, making Lara's knees shake. The only thing left in the room was the marble edging that ran along its perimeter. The high rock ceiling was totally inaccessible. She would have to follow the rock ledge around the perimeter of the huge room to reach the doorway on the other side. Aware that if she stayed any longer than was necessary in the terrifying heat she would probably slide down into the chasm, she started to carefully side step along the marble ledge. As she reached the first corner, her vision swam and she felt her legs weaken. Desperately she clung to the wall with all her strength, trying to lock her knees straight. As soon as the room had stopped spinning, she moved on, holding her breath as she navigated the corner. She carried along the side of the wall.  
'Only . . . only half-way to go now . . .'  
Forcing herself on, she realised that she was slowing down. The adrenaline provided by the thought of dropping into the fiery pit below got her around the second corner, and when she reached the doorway, she fell through it, landing hard on her front. A cool breeze brushed over her back, and she hoped beyond hope that nothing would want to snack on her as her vision settled and the strength returned to her limbs. As soon as she could, she dragged herself up to her knees, although the room rotated gently. She staggered upright and drew her pistols. After trying to listen for dangerous sounds, she thought that she could hear the steady rushing of water.   
'Please, don't let it be wishful thinking.'  
She rounded the last corner in the rock tunnel to find a large, well-decorated room - with an ornamental fountain on the steps leading into it. Seeing no immediate danger, with a hoarse cry of relief Lara moved as quickly as possible to the fountain, and fell to her knees to stick her face in the water. As she drank, it occurred to her that she didn't know if the water was clean or not. Then it occurred to her that she really didn't care. As soon as she felt less likely to collapse at any moment, she slaked the rest of her thirst, and stood by the fountain. Another room decorated with gold-wrapped stone and jewelled decorations. Yet it seemed to Lara that something was wrong here. The room was apparently free of animal dangers, with a steady floor and ceiling, and a good light source. 'Ah. Light source.'  
There _was_ no apparent light source. There were no torches in this room, or lights on the walls. Lara looked up, craning her neck to see as far into the ceiling as she could. When she saw the light source, she nearly cramped her neck muscles from staring up at it in fascination. From several small holes in the ceiling, light was reflected down using metal panels. The sunlight was effectively dispersed at the top of the room, being caught again and passed down into the lower parts. Although some light was lost, there was still enough to see well by. Lara supposed that the apparently dormant mirrors would be in use when the Sun moved along the sky, and the light from it moved off the active panels. Reluctantly, she dragged her gaze back down to the room. A row of hieroglyphs lined the four walls, punctuated by scenes created with paint and gems.  
  
"Here begins the tale of the people of the Golden Rock. After Set was trapped, the people were happy to live as they had before, thanking Horus but doing nothing to capture those who followed Set and Set alone. Horus chased the followers of Set far into the desert, and though their steeds were fast, Horus was faster, and though they were strong, Horus was stronger. The brave and the truly righteous followed Horus into the desert, to worship Him and see justice done. Horus led the people and the followers to a holy rock in the desert, and spake thus: "Here today shall thy see my wisdom and my power, and thee that have followed me even unto this place shall be blessed indeed." There he called forth the very rock and metal from the earth, and built a covering over the rock, saying, "Witness the Glory of Horus, and let it forever be open to show that justice shall be done." There Horus led the people and the followers under His Glory, into the very bowels of the Earth. Horus stopped at a cavern, and there tried and judged the followers of Set. Where their blood stained the ground, Horus created a method to summon Him, saying, "You here, the faithful, you are my people of the Golden Rock. Here I give you water. Make your way always in truth and light, and when ye cannot judge, do not misjudge, only come to this hallowed place and summon Me in this Temple of Truth." May we always follow the words of Horus, and honour Him as He honours us."  
  
Lara stepped back from the last wall, alternately fascinated and worried. As with the other rooms, there appeared to be no exit. However, there was a very large inscribed gong standing in the centre of the room, with a beater laying nearby. The inscription read, "truth and light." The floor surrounding the gong was decorated with a painted mist, swirls of blue and grey covering the floor in a wide radius. Summoning Horus - 'Or at least summoning what these people _thought_ was Horus,' she reminded herself, could be the only way out of this. For all her resolutions at the start of this journey, she may well be getting judged anyway. Fear curled an insidious tendril around her heart, causing the breath to catch in her throat. A lot of people would not consider her 'track record' a good one. Her dealings with the mystical had given her a large dose of respect for the supernatural warnings on temples and the like. She had dealt with dinosaurs, dragons, imps, mutated creatures, mummies, and Gods.   
'But I'll be damned before I'm a coward.'  
She stepped forwards, bending down to pick up the beater with her eyes fixed on the gong. She licked her lips nervously as she raised the beater, almost straining under the weight. With a cry born of exertion and fear, she swung the beater towards the massive gong. The vibration filled the room, starting as a brief unheard rumble, the rising to a higher pitch. The floor seemed to shimmer, and Lara was forced to drop the beater and cover her ears to preserve her hearing. Looking down, she saw the floor appear to shiver, and for a moment the painted mist moved, appearing to swirl. Just as quickly it flickered back to a static painted floor again, before starting to swirl again. The gong still resounded, although it was long since time that the noise should have ceased. Where the pattern of swirls on the floor finished, the pattern had started to project into the air, forming a barrier around the gong. Lara could no longer feel the floor beneath her feet - she seemed to be standing on cloud. Soon the mist barrier had obscured the rest of the room completely, and even covered the gong only inches in front of Lara. As the last tremors of the gong echoed and died, Lara took her hands off of her ears. And then discovered the reason that she couldn't feel the floor was that it wasn't there anymore. She was suspended in a blue-grey mist, standing somehow in it and on it, an invisible floor, and although the mist swirled, it revealed nothing but more mist.   
Fear reared its head, and Lara had to work hard not to give in and run when a figure started moving towards her in the mist. Unbidden, a list of all the morally reprehensible things that she had done came to mind. The figure continued its approach, slow and deliberate, before it came to a halt in front of Lara. A representation of Horus stood before her, tall enough for Lara to have to lift her chin to see it properly. Horus stared at her, and she gritted her teeth and resisted the impulse to bow. Respect was one thing, but she had never bowed for anybody or anything. Horus started to laugh as though he had followed Lara's thoughts and found them amusing, a low, full sound that startled Lara. Then Horus stopped, and looked directly into Lara's eyes.   
"You are here not only because you could not be judged by my people, but because I have commanded it."  
The words were Egyptian and the voice was as low and soft as a distant rumble of thunder. Lara tried to make her dry throat work.  
"Why?"  
Horus seemed to consider her for a moment, head on one side, before answering, "You have the potential for both great good and great evil. You have done both. I cannot allow you to do anything which would endanger my people. I shall know you, but first you shall know yourself."  
"I - I don't know what you mean."  
Horus lifted his hand from his side and passed if briefly in front of Lara's face . . .  
_The plane shuddered and for one awful moment, was still, before it started to drop with stomach jolting lurches. Lara heard a scream far away, and realised that it was her voice . . . chaos reigned as the world spun and tumbled . . .  
_With a gasp, Lara jerked her head away from the hand.   
"Don't do that! I won't think about that, I _wont_!"  
Horus slowly lowered his arm, apparently unruffled by Lara's outspoken attitude to a God.  
"That is the centre of you - the point of change. Why will you not think on it?"  
Lara looked down, instantly regretting it as the illusion of falling caused a wave of nausea. She kept her eyes down as she said quietly, "It upsets me."  
Horus insisted, "This is true, but only part of a truth. Carry on. Why will you not think on it?" He passed his hand over Lara's face again, causing her to lift her head up, and moisture to form in her eyes.   
"Stop doing that! "   
Her voice cracked on the last word and the pool of salt-water deepened in the side of her eye. The rumble in Horus' voice intensified.  
"Why?"  
Another pass of the hand. Another protest. Another pass.  
"Why?"  
Lara's mind was a mass of confusion. Every time Horus' hand passed before her eyes, so did her memory - as strongly as the day it happened. She couldn't keep seeing it, every time, not only unable to do anything, but -  
As the hand passed over her face again Lara's knees gave way and she fell to the invisible floor.  
"Why?"  
"Because I wouldn't change it!" She wailed, sobs bursting free as the internal dam broke. "If that hadn't happened, I wouldn't be here now, I wouldn't be the person I am now, not me, I would be sitting - sitting _sewing_ and being a good, married, upper-class girl, and its evil, because if it hadn't happened then I wouldn't have lost my family and my fiancé!"  
Her words dissolved into sobs as she slumped over, not caring if she was disgracing herself, not even in front of a God. For her whole life she had pretended to be 'one of the good guys', to be on the right side,  
and when she finally realised her true feelings she had been unable to come to terms with them. She had to believe she was on the 'right side', that she wasn't just as bad as Larson and Pierre DuPont, but it wasn't true.  
She felt strong arms hauling her upright, and she let them, aware that soon her life would be ended as had the lives of the followers of Set. Horus' rumble started anew.  
"You have spoken Truth. I have seen, and I shall judge."  
The words barely registered, or the fact that she was being supported on one arm by a God. She couldn't see anything through her tears, and although her sobs had stopped, the tears still flowed.  
"You shall continue, Lara Croft."  
With that, the mist seemed to slow and thicken, and the arm supporting her let her gently to the ground.  
The rumbling continued as Lara listened . . .

A flash of lightening illuminated the back of her eyelids, and she blinked them open slowly. Disorientation reigned until she realised that she was lying curled on her side. Another rumble of thunder sounded, further away this time.   
'I wonder if that _was_ what His voice sounded like, or if it was just one He chose . . .' Then the memories started slipping away with the onslaught of full consciousness. 'Whose voice?' A flash of memory, a swirling blue-greyness . . . She looked down at the floor she was lying on before picking herself up. 'That explains that then.'  
The moonlight was illuminating the room, filtering down through the reflectors on the ceiling, giving everything a soft, peaceful glow. It also illuminated the concealed passageway that was now open on one side of the wall. 'So hitting that gong did achieve something then. But . . .' Everything was - different. She didn't know why. She assumed that she wasn't totally recovered from her lava room escapade, and so when she hit the gong the noise and the exertion had been enough to cause her to pass out. And still, things seemed brighter, and she felt lighter somehow. Putting it down to her long sleep, she continued to the doorway, following the steeply climbing path until she stepped out into the full moon's light.  
'It really is beautiful out here. For once I'll be sorry to return home so soon.'  
Sighing, Lara looked around to get her bearings. She walked around the wall of rock she had emerged by, and gave a dry chuckle as she realised that she had come full circle. She was standing by the same ridge of rock that held the small cave she had first woken in. Remembering her introduction to Adan, her eyes narrowed. After a moment of consideration, she decided to let it go.   
'Not that the poor fool is likely to come near me considering the last run in . . . oh, apparently he is.'  
She held her ground as the familiar figure approached her. With no small amount of reverence, he kneeled in front of her, pressing his forehead into the sand. She rolled her eyes and hauled him to his feet.  
"If that was your apology I should tell you that it is accepted."  
Adan's eyes widened as words deserted him.  
"W - why?"  
Lara observed Adan critically.  
"You did what you were ordered to by your Council of Elders, you never personally tried to hurt me, and for some reason I just don't feel inclined to kill you for it."  
Adan offered a hesitant smile, which Lara returned. Before Lara could bully him into releasing a camel and some money however, he began with,  
"The Council has asked me to offer you an escort to Cairo, if you will accept it."  
It was Lara's turn to give a startled "Why?"  
"You are alive. You have travelled the Temple. This means that Horus has judged you well."  
Lara thought it wise not to mention that she had, in fact, been catching up on some sleep, and that nothing had happened. As the chill breeze roughened her skin, Adan held out a coarse robe like his own, and she wrapped it around herself gratefully. Instead, she just nodded, and walked with Adan back to the Golden Rock. As she walked, she recalled her time in the Temple. She remembered all too clearly the start of her journey, and her lava room escapade. She remembered reading the story of the people of the Golden Rock, and hitting the gong . . . but there memory faded. This worried her slightly, but this could be one mystery that she was unable to solve. 'I must have passed out - I just can't remember passing out.' She frowned slightly, and resolved to think more on it later.  
Before they reached the Golden Rock, Lara noticed that there must be some kind of celebration going on. Music drifted over the cool night air with a beat that even Lara had trouble staying still to, and large fires threw out light and heat. With many apologies, Adan left her outside a tent while he went to discuss mounts with the camel-master. As she was waiting, she overheard the slightly drunken conversation of a group of revellers nearby.  
"No one has ever gone all the way . . . never do it . . . Larson . . ."  
At that Lara stiffened. 'Larson! What?' Casually she moved over to the group, who amused her slightly by trying to get to their feet to bow, and failing spectacularly. Before they all fell down, she gave them a dazzling smile.  
"Please, sit down. I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and I was curious."  
A scramble resulted in Lara being seated on a bench between tow men offering her wine. She declined with another smile.  
"Did I hear the name 'Larson'?"  
The man to her left beamed.   
"Yes, yes, Larson. He is the man the westerners have set on the trail of the staff of Horus."  
All of the men bowed their heads for a moment, before clinking their mugs and drinking again.   
"Ridiculous accent he had!"   
All of the men went into what they thought were hilarious impressions of a thick cowboy accent.  
"Horus' staff?"  
The man on the right waved his arm expansively, nearly falling off the bench as he did so.  
"Never found yet! People have tried and failed. Of course, we know the rough location, because we're His people. It is no secret. North of here for several days and descend to a rock cavern. Asked us, he did. Offered him some loose directions, but he'll never make it all the way to the staff!"  
The men laughed. Lara's interest was piqued. There was only one Larson that she knew of the description offered that could be involved in this sort of thing, and she thought that both he and his previous employer were dead - courtesy of one Ms. Lara Croft. The men had started to look dopey by now, and she decided to stir things up a little.  
"So if it's Horus' staff and He wants it back, why doesn't he get it himself?"  
The man on the left spluttered in indignation, before his friend patted him on the back.   
"Easy Ran, easy, she could not know, she is only a westerner."  
As this was said Lara raised an eyebrow. 'Just a westerner?' Ran's friend winced apologetically.  
When Ran was settled again, his friend, introducing himself as Yosef, told Lara the age-old tale.  
"A long time ago, Horus had a mighty staff - he could control the sun, where it fell and where it did not, helping or hindering crops to grow. One day, Set took his staff for a prank. He gave it to his high priest, and said to him, "Put this in the Caves of Ba, where not even I can tread." With this he disappeared, leaving the priest with the staff." The Caves of Ba will take no immortal's tread, so even mighty Horus is unable to re-take His staff. No one has reached it yet - the Caves are set with traps and guardians. No more clever, more deadly system, has ever been."  
Yosef took a long swig from his mug while Lara considered the ramifications of this, and realised that Adan was beckoning her to the tent. Lara rose, treating the rosy-cheeked group to another broad smile.  
"Thankyou gentlemen, you have been most helpful."  
With that she strode over to Adan.  
"I have arranged for camels, water, and supplies for us to take you to Cairo. We will supply you with coin suitable to contact your people so that you may go home again. But please, do try and return the coin - we do not do much trading here."  
Lara nodded, her decisions made.   
"Can you take me to Cairo and back here again?"  
Adan's jaw dropped.  
"Why would you want to - "  
"I'm going after the staff of Horus."  
Adan's jaw dropped and he stammered.  
"W-w-what?"  
"I want to go to Cairo, use the coin to buy more ammunition for my pistols - and another backpack - and travel to the Caves of Ba."  
She would not return home first - she knew that Hillary would worry, but Larson would surely have the heard the 'news' that she was dead. 'And two can play that game.'  
Adan tried very hard to hide his grin, as he explained that the Council would be more than happy, but was she sure, and did she know the dangers? Eventually it was decided that she would stay the night at Golden Rock, and at dawn they would leave.  
"But after the celebration."  
Lara shrugged.   
"I can see that you are having one, but on honour of what?"  
Adan beamed and pointed in the direction of the Glory of Horus, which from this distance occupied a large section of the horizon.  
"The Elders have told us that Horus is indeed pleased, and have predicted that on this night shall be an 'evening of the Moon'."  
Lara raised her eyebrows in surprise.  
"You mean to say that . . . "  
"Yes."  
As the first rays of the moon reached the correct position, the web of light was spun once more, in threads of silver rather than gold.  
Lara watched it, contented, realising that all was well again. She had her pistols, her attitude, and her goal. What more did she need?   
She went to sleep happy, and dreamed dreams of travelling through excitingly old burial chambers, passing through the places of the ancients . . .

__

And somewhere in her dream, a voice that rumbled like thunder spoke to her, telling her what she had forgotten, and what she would forget on waking . . . "I regret that this was necessary, but you shall help me retrieve what was once mine. From now on you are counted as one of my people, though you shall know it not. One day you shall return to me here, and what was forgotten shall be remembered, and you shall know peace at last. Until then, go, be light of heart, follow adventures you may find - for you shall forever be, the tombraider."


End file.
